Another Type of Guardian
by Cap10
Summary: After wandering around the world practically invisible, Jack Frost quickly discovered that being immortal could be incredibly lonely. Luckily, every once in a moon he would bump into a rare person who could not only see him but hear him as well. Through these encounters the young Winter Spirit's story is entwined with a very unique type of guardian.
1. The Man Who Spoke With Spirits

_**Author's Note: **__In the northern hemisphere the nights are long, the weather cold, the food rich, and the company warm. At this time of celebrating death, birth, miracles, and the change of the season, I would like to gift my readers a twelve-chapter piece entitled "Another Type of Guardian." It is my very first crossover fanfiction and is written so I can give you a new chapter to read every day until Christmas. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful Hanukkah, Sadeh, Kwanzaa, Watch Night, Solstice, Yule, Pancha Ganapati, Bodhi, Christmas and, of course, a very happy New Year. _

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians. __A__lso, this is my very first cross over story, so please forgive my failings._

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><p><strong>The Man Who Spoke With Spirits<strong>

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><p>Jack Frost knew of few places uglier than London's slums. It was a place inhabited by the city's most broken and destitute people—the men and women who scoured the streets in the early hours of the morning, picking through the muck in the gutters as they looked for scraps of cloth, fragments of bone, and even excrement they could sale for a few pence. A place where the Poor House dominated the skyline and where brown, twisted handfuls of grass grew among the unmarked graves of women who men called geese. Even the air was anything but pure. It was so thick with a mixture of coal smoke, privy gasses, decay, and river fog that even Spirits sometime had a hard time trying catching their breath. London's slums were a place for Britain's forgotten people, and Jack Frost, a Winter Spirit, completely fit in.<p>

For the past few years the young Winter Spirit found himself wandering through London's feted streets with the rest of the slum-living ghosts. Sandy, the only Spirit who seemed to pay attention to Jack's predicament, tried to convince him to spend less time in London, but he couldn't stop himself from returning to the bleak place. He was, after all, a Spirit of winter and, thus, a bringer of starvation and death. It was only right he was an outcast.

One late December, freezing drizzle caused the roads to turn thick with mud that stuck in clumps to the Spirit's bare feet, but there was nothing unusual about this particular evening. Jack traveled the familiar paths, not bothering to look up or even flitch when someone walked through him. He was too busy stewing in his own depression to notice his surroundings. It wasn't until someone physically smashed into him that Jack finally looked up to see a tired-looking man with hair the color of dirty straw and piercing green eyes topped with a massive pair of eyebrows.

"Just because you're a Spirit doesn't mean you shouldn't watch where you're going, you know." The voice was stern but tinged with humor.

"You can see me?" Jack Frost stammered.

"Of course I can."

"But does that mean you are also…" Jack began.

The man sighed, "No, I don't happen to be a Spirit, at least, not in the same way you are. I see you have a number of questions dancing on the tip of your tongue. As I do not happen to be invisible to the naked human eye and do not wish to have my good name soiled," he said with a slight roll of his eyes, "I suggest we continue this conversation in a more secluded environment."

Jack nodded his agreement, "Very good. I believe there's a quiet, little courtyard less than a block from here. That should give us the privacy we seek."

The courtyard turned out to be little more than an ally squashed between two towering apartment buildings. If not for the small well of fresh water in the center, the place would have been heaped with trash and debris long ago, but the water source meant the local residents actually bothered to keep the area relatively clean of scum. Jack's feet touched the cold stone, and for the first time in years, he actually felt safe and protected. This new found safety unlocked a latent sense of curiosity and questions began tumbling out of his mouth. "Why are you here?" "How can you see me? What's going on?"

"Slow down, I can't possibly answer all those questions at once. Pick one."

Jack selected the question which burned on the forefront of his mind, "Why are you here?" There was no plausible reason for a well-dressed English gentleman to be wandering the worst city streets in London at this time of night.

The man began answering as Jack just gave him blank stare. "I am here, because it is my responsibility, my duty. Too many people never feel love in this life. They slip from this broken world feeling worthless. I believe every human being, no matter how small or wrenched, should at least be acknowledged. If the rest of humanity is unwilling to respect the great worth of a human soul, then I will do my best to fill the gap."

"You sound like a Patron Saint," the Winter Spirit spat sourly.

The man chuckled at Jack's expression. "Hmmm, it seems you have already run into a few of those. To be honest, I have found too many of them have a stick up their butts. There are a few who are truly good people but most are obsessed with their collection rules to be of much use. I mean, what is the point of guardian angels if they refuse to do their jobs every time a person has a crisis of faith? Isn't that when a person actually needs divine intervention the most?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully and looked at the stranger with curious eyes, "If you are not a patron saint, what are you?"

"That is a bit complicated. I guess I am another type of guardian. Not a guardian angel or a guardian of childhood but one who looks upon all people equally, regardless of their age, economy, or class."

"Then you are a Spirit like me?"

"No," the man chuckled. "Very few would confuse me as a Spirit, but I guess I have a similar role."

"What?"

"Helping people reach their full potential."

Jack looked into the stranger's face for a long time before asking the next question. "Can you help me?"

"I do not know… probably not." The man softly admitted, before turning to leave the courtyard.

"Wait!" Jack reached out, clinging to the man's cloak, then letting go, ashamed of his action. "There must be something you can do to help me…"

"Lad, I truly wish there was a way I could help you, but I can't."

"Why?" Jack could feel icy tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Anxiety and depression began to well up in his heart again. Perhaps, because he was a Spirit instead of being human, he wasn't worthy of having that type of guidance. Perhaps he was just as worthless as his doubts whispered. The Winter Spirit could feel himself being dragged back into the dark abyss of depression.

Then the man spoke, and it was as though the sun had risen. "Because deciding who you will become is something very personal. Discovering yourself will not be easy, but it will be worth every step of the journey. I can tell you have great potential. It is your job to learn to see that potential in your own heart. Until you do that, no one can offer the help that you seek. Now Lad," he placed a warm hand on Jack's shoulder. "The night is waning, and there are still many I need to see."

"Wait!" Jack reached longingly towards the man who had rescued him from drowning in his loneliness.

The man's kind eyes rested upon him. "Yes, Lad?"

"Can I at least have your name?"

The man smiled at Jack's question, then removed his top hat with a sweeping bow. "My name is Sir Arthur Kirkland, but to my friends, I am known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. It has been a pleasure to meet you, and I suspect our paths will cross in the future."

There was a swirl of wind, and Sir Kirkland was gone, leaving Jack standing alone in a forgotten courtyard with an unfamiliar warmth in his heart and the taste of magic on his tongue. For the first time in a decade, the Winter Spirit felt hope kindled in his soul.

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><p><em><strong>End Note: <strong>__Sometimes it only takes one person to bring a little light into a bad situation. May we strive to be that person in another's life._

_**Next Chapter**_: "The Child With The Pitch-like Smile" _Chased by the Spirits of spring, Jack seeks a safe haven in northern Russia. There he stumbles upon General Winter, one of the strongest keepers of the winter season, and the young boy in his care. _


	2. The Child With The Pitch Like Smile

_**Author's Note-**__Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading the second chapter of Another Type of Guardian. Hopefully it is entertaining you thus far. Thus far this story has had two wonderful reviewers. Thank you to Berlin and Crossover Junkie for you words of encouragements. If anyone else has any suggestions, found a mistake I need to fix (there is probably plenty of these I am a terrible editor), or simply want to drop me a line your reviews or PMs are greatly appreciated. Thanks a ton, and now on to the story._

_**Disclaimer**__- I do not own Hetalia, Rise of the Guardian's, or any of the mythical season spirits._

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><p><strong>The Child With The Pitch Like Smile<strong>

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><p>It had taken a few years, but Jack Frost was finally felt like he was coming unto his own. He may not be as terrifying as Windigo, as deadly as Yuki-onna, as cruel as Old Man Winter, or as powerful as General Winter, but Jack Frost was a quick and nimble winter spirit who brought chaos in his wake. While his brothers and sister keepers of winter brought famine, hypothermia, suffering and death, Jack enjoyed trying to bring whimsy to the lives of thousands.<p>

This morning he had been spreading that whimsy across a country which the humans called Prussia by painting frost across window panes and turning the young green grass stiff. He had been cheerfully chasing a group of young boys breath cold air across their ears and noses, causing them to run even faster to get to school when Zephyrus, keeper of the west wind and bringer of spring, had stumbled upon him.

The spring spirits would never dare to attack any of the other winter spirits head on. They were too strong, too dangerous. Jack Frost, on the other hand, was a simple trickster spirit and his weakness meant that many seasonal spirits felt that he was fair game for bullying. They would lash out at him with warm winds and cruel words. The only thing that Jack could do under this type of onslaught was try to dodge and outrun their attacks.

Today, Jack wasn't doing well. Zephyrus had lashed out with particularly hot winds and the great stag who was the Bringer of Spring's companion had attempted to pin him to the ground with its large antlers. The pair had chased Jack across large swaths of Europe and into the continent of Asia. The winter trickster did everything in his power to stay one step ahead of the spring spirits but he was growing tired and it was getting harder and harder to stay in front of the thundering hooves and cutting wind.

Finally, deep in the Russian Taiga, Jack found shelter from the barrage of attacks. There he found a snow stubborn squall that forced the Spring Spirits to retreat and allowed Jack to cloak himself in dancing crystals of ice. Clinging to a spindly black spruce, Jack struggled to keep his eyes open as he finally caught his breath. He gradually lost his battle with exhaustion and fell asleep cradle in the ancient tree.

The concerned North Wind watched as one of its favorite companions drifted off into unconsciousness. Brushing against the too warm skin and traced the growing bruises. Not knowing what else to do the accident wind swept the snow storm its will and covered Jack in a soothing blanket of snow before rushing through familiar forest for help.

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><p>"And what do we have here?" The weathered voice woke Jack with such a start that he nearly lost his grip on the tree he was perched in. Like a startled deer, Jack tried to freeze, willing himself to become invisible. He failed<p>

"It looks like another Winter Spirit." A violet eyed child said looking up at him with curiosity and a dark smile.

"Very good, Ivan." Then General Winter bent and tousled the child's hair. "I do believe that this is the sprite that the North Wind is worried about."

"I am sorry." Jack said his voice hoarse with fear. "I didn't mean to trespass. I can leave right now. Just please don't…" Jack mouth only stopped moving when he noticed the sad look in the General's eyes.

"Ivan, would you please run to the house and make some tea for our guest. Be sure to add plenty of snow in to his cup, I do not think that he is in any state to consume a warm beverage at the moment." The child who was standing behind the Great General Winter bobbled his head and went running through the snowy field allowing the Winter Spirit to turn his full attention on Jack. "You are among friends. I am not going to let anyone hurt you further. So, would you mind coming down out of that tree so that I might bind your wounds, Keeper of the Frost?"

"I really do not want to be a bother…" Jack started as lowering himself from the branches and wincing when his feet touched the ground.

"You are never a bother Jack, especially when you are a guest in my forest." The General chuckled as the North Wind swept around the two happily. "Plus I doubt if our friend the Wind would have allowed me to turn a deaf ear to your plight."

"The North Wind is really too good to me." Jack admitted shyly as the Wind happily swirled around him.

"Son, you deserve every ounce of its affection."

"I don't know…Who is that child?" Jack asked trying to change the subject. "He is not one of our kind, is he?"

"No he is not, he is far more human than I will ever be, but I do not know if that is a good or a bad thing. I discovered Ivan years ago when he was but a toddler lost, alone, and cold in the snow." The old man smiled with the memory. "I immediately felt kinship with the boy so I shielded him from the more vicious of our kind and guided him back to the warm hearth of his sister's home. Since that time he has grown to be like a son to me. During the summer he works hard completing human work, but when winter comes he is always a welcome guest in my home."

"Why? Isn't it your job to bring death?"

"Jack, you are still too young to understand." The old winter spirit looked down at the younger one with pity in his eyes. "While bringing death and destruction is a facet of our existence, winter can also protect and preserve. And sharing

"How do I know if I have found something worth protecting?"

"That is something only your heart can tell you." General Winter placed a weathered hand on Jack's head and rustled his pale hair a bit. "When your heart finally tells you, you will know that you have found your purpose in life."

"Then I will have to search the world until I find it."

"And when you need a place to rest, you many always come here. My humble home may not be much, but it can be a place where you can find peace and safety from the bullies who chase you." Then sensing doubt in the young Winter Spirit, the elder one's eyes softened. "Jack, whenever you seek my help I never will turn you away. You will always be sheltered here."

"Thank you General Winter…" Jack tried to blink back the icy tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. "You have no clue how much this means to me." And Jack Frost felt his heart nearly bursting with gratitude, because even though General Winter's house would never be home it felt good to know that there was at least one place on earth where Jack was always welcome.

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><p><em><strong>End Note-<strong>__ While Russia is scary, if you want to learn about something really scary look up Windigos. I think there are officially the most terrifying of all the winter spirits. _

_**Next Chapter**__-_The Boy Who Left Foot Prints In The Snow-_It is nearly Christmas in Valley Forge but few there felt like there is anything to celebrate. They were hungry, cold, and it looked like the colonies were losing the war but Jack Frost discovered that there were still men who were would lay down their lives for the hope of freedom. _


	3. The Boy Who Left Foot Prints In The Snow

_**Author's Note**__-When I planned the Christmas special I tried my very best to make sure that I would be able to post every day. I wrote I did the research beforehand, I wrote the chapters beforehand, and I uploaded the chapters beforehand. Unfortunately Mother Nature and the electrical system decided to conspire against me. It turns out it is kind of difficult to post a new chapter when you don't have access to the internet. Oh well, thank you to Kenai for your review and thank you to everyone else for reading._

_**Disclaimer-**__ I do not own Hetalia, Rise of the Guardians, but I do have a series of photos of me sitting on George Washington's knee instead of Santa's knee on Christmas Day. (When I was little my family went to the reenactment of Washington crossing the Delaware as a holiday tradition.)_

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><p><strong>The Boy Who Left Foot Prints In The Snow<strong>

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><p>For most of Jack Frost's life he had kind of thought of himself as a British Citizen, but that perception was beginning to change. A few years ago the people who lived in the town near the lake that he was born started to grumble with discontent. The discontent boiled over in Boston a city not too far away and the British's cracked down on the city's citizens. This had only made the neighboring communities more upset. It did not take long for blood to be spilt and war declared.<p>

The war between the American colonies and the British Empire proved to be a bloody one. The British soldiers were well trained and well fed. They fought with some of the most powerful mercenaries that Europe had to offer. The American colonists had put up a good fight but it was clear that they were losing momentum.

As the winter of 1777 howled across the continent the American forces were drawing close to their breaking point. The continental forces had hold up near the small community of Valley Forge Pennsylvania. There they began to build small huts to shelter them from winter's furry but starvation and disease made the men easy pickings for Yuki-onna's deadly embrace. All Jack had followed in her wake curious about want the America forces would do next.

"Hello." Jack was distracted from his dark musing to find a boy about his age starring up at the tree that he was sitting in. At first Jack couldn't believe what he was seeing, but the boy pointed up at him and repeated the greeting. "Hello, are you hungry?"

"I guess…" Jack admitted and he found a small warm loaf tossed in his hands.

"It is a cold day isn't it. I hate the cold." The honey haired boy said with a deep shiver. "Winter I don't mind. The snow is kind of pretty and I love the feasts and balls usually happen around Christmas time. Not that I will be attending any Christmas parties this year." The boy shrugged and nodded towards the rickety, low slung barracks. "So, what is your name?"

"Jack Frost." The Winter Spirit muttered between mouthfuls of heavy bread.

"Jack Frost that is so cool." Alfred's smile was as bright as a summer's noon day sun. "Where are you from?"

"I don't know for sure." Jack shrugged. "I kind of just woke up in a lake near Burgess."

"Really." The other boy grinned even bigger and clapped his hand with delight. "That is just what the man who raised me told me when I was growing up. You must be the actual Jack Frost then. I thought that you were just a story, it is so cool that I actually get to meet you."

Jack was about to open speak when they were interrupted by a tall man entering the clearing.

"Alfred, who are you talking to?"

"Jack Frost," America said brightly motioning towards the tree, "I finally got to meet him. Turns out it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. He looks to be about my same age, plus it turns out that he is also an American. Jack Frost is kind of like our very own General Winter. Isn't that great?"

"Yes it is." He nodded quietly then sighed as he looked down at the bloody foot brings that Alfred was leaving in the snow. "What have you done with your shoes?"

"Some else needed them far more than I did."

"If you are going to fight for your independence you are going to have to take better care of yourself."

"It is nothing. They will heal up a good as new when spring finally comes. That isn't the case for most of the other soldiers." Alfred looked down at feet blacked with frost bite and painted red with frozen blood with a shrug. The General hung his head in sorrow at the boy's condition, which caused a sad smile to cross the young soldier's lips. "Don't worry about me, General Washington. I am a lot tougher then I look."

"Alfred, you are the strongest person I know, but that isn't going to stop me from worrying about you. But I better not distract you from your duties. Baron von Steuben is looking for you. I think that he has some drills that he wants to practice this afternoon."

The Washington stood in the forest clearing for a long time trying to blink tears from his eyes. Jack slowly climbed down from the tree that he had been clinging too and stood next to the General to get a better look at the man. He was so close to the human that the Winter Spirit couldn't help but startle when the man opened his mouth and spoke.

"Jack Frost." The tall General scanned the trees with tired looking eyes, but failed to see the spirit. "I do not know who you are, or if you real, but if Alfred knows you there I have to trust that you exist." He swallowed searching for the words to say. "If you are there, we need your help. The life of this young country is hanging by a thread and if we are going to survive this winter we are going to need all of the allies we can get. I do not know if you consider yourself to be an American citizen or if Alfred is putting words in your mouth, but if there anyway that you can aid us I beg that you will."

"I will do my best." The Winter Spirit whispered as the icy north wind swirled around the two.

The peace that spread man's features made Jack believe that the General heard him. It wasn't until days later at the Battle of Trenton that Jack realized just how important the Washington was to the fledgling country. General George Washington was the man who was keeping the colonies fight for independence alive.

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__-Cool piece of history. Jack Frost, the trickster is actually a fairly modern concept. In fact many of the oldest pictures of the winter spirit that I was able to find in the records are related to the American Revolutionary war where he was described as General Jack Frost. In these images Jack Frost helped the American forces through playing tricks on the British forces. _

_**Next Chapter**__-_The Youth Who Feared Cats_-Iceland had long fascinated Jack Frost. It was an island that was trapped between ice and flame, but as he walked the volcanic rocks on one memorable winter solstice Jack discovers that some aspect of the area's local magic should be feared. _


	4. The Youth Who Feared Cats

_**Author's Note**__-Well, it is official, the flu vaccine for this year completely missed. It has been hitting the community I live in pretty hard so I have been working a whole lot of extra shifts to keep track of the Christmas rush. Hopefully the Christmas rush is not too bad for all of you readers and that you will enjoy this little tale involving Jack Frost, Iceland, Norway, and giant Yule Cat that eats people who have not receive any new clothing in the past year._

_**Disclaimer**__- I do not own Hetalia, Rise of the Guardians, or any Giant Man Eating Cats_.

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><p><strong>The Youth Who Feared Cats<strong>

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><p>The wind screamed. Howling, playing across the practically treeless landscape of one of the most unique islands on Earth. Jack giggled as the danced among the geysers. Trying to freeze droplets of water that were thrown too high in to the long winter night sky, then watching them thaw again as they fell back to earth. He peered deep into rumbling cracks in the rock that belched sulfur and smoke in hope of glimpsing a dragon. And he scrolled delicate ferns of frost across houses that had few, if any, windows. The place that the locals called Iceland was truly a Winter Spirit's paradise, Jack mused as the wind tossed him careening along the sea cliffs. Unfortunately there appeared to be one person who was determined to stop Jack's fun.<p>

"What in the world do you think you are doing?" A stern man in a blue sailor's uniform looked down his nose at the Winter Spirit.

"Who me?"

"Yes you, I do not see any other beings gallivanting across this island's cliffs." The man's glare was as withering as hot desert wind. "Jack Frost, you should already know that this place is under the protection of spirits and guardians far stronger then yourself. The winters here are harsh enough; they do not need an unwanted winter spirit adding to their severity."

"Who are you talking to Lukas?" A young man, barely even a teenager interrupted the older one's rant. Jack hadn't even noticed the boy come up the path. The nearly white haired individual scanned the horizon but appeared to be unable to see Jack standing mere feet away.

"None of your concern Iceland." The slight, bored looking man said without bothering to take his eyes off the winter spirit. "Go back inside and warm up."

"I have spent practically all winter inside and the house is really starting to smell."

"Well if you finished your chores and cleaned out the manure instead of constantly sticking your nose in the books you so love maybe the house would stay fresh longer." The man shrugged and turned his full attention back to Jack. "Now, if you are a wise spirit then you will high tail it off of this island before someone gets hurt."

"You are not talking to the trolls again are you?" The one called Iceland with a roll of his eyes.

"No, I am not." The pale man called Lukas smirked as he glared at Jack. "The trolls at least have enough common sense to listen to me, but it seems that the Norse Gods have it out for me today and has saddled me with two stupid souls instead of just one."

"I am not stupid." The white haired youth said hotly.

"You could have fooled me." Lukas replied sharply but his voice did not contain any venom. "Back inside before Jack Frost nips your nose. And Jack, as I highly doubt you have received new clothing this past year, I suggest that you take leave of this place before Grýla decides to let her cat you for the evening."

The weak winter sun was just beginning to set, as the two people made their way into the small sod house leaving Jack and the Wind alone to enjoy the island's harsh landscape in peace. Skipping across massive glaciers and hulking volcanos, it didn't take long for Jack to completely forget about Lukas's warning. The stars turned in the sky, the aurora's danced and sang, and Jack almost didn't hear the menacing meow coming from behind him. When he spun around to face the sound he found himself staring into the wagon wheel sized eyes of a massive, drooling cat.

"Here kitty, nice kitty..." Jack started but the cranky looking animal gave off a deep yawl and prepared to ponce. Jack swore under his breath and started to run. It was only not until the North Wind had carried him safely over the choppy Atlantic leaving the massive, hissing cat on shore that he began to relax. Laughing from the shear relief of his escape, Jack Frost vowed to avoid Iceland during Christmas time unless he received a proper gift of clothing sometime over the past year.

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__-A Yule Cat, what your cat dreams of becoming every time they steal food off your kitchen counter. Lol. Also Norway was rather talkative in this one. _

_**Next Chapter**_- The Sniper In The Pines_- It was a war that went by many names. Some called it the Great War, others the War to End all Wars. It was fought in the hedgerows and muddy trenches of Europe with stinking gas that stung Jacks lungs and barbwire that cut his feet. Still on Christmas Eve fun could be found even here. So Jack Frost settled in to watch the Christmas Truce in a great old pine tree with a man who was nearly as invisible as he was._


	5. The Sniper In The Pines

_**Author's Note**__- Just a head's up, this is not a happy chapter. It has Canada in it though, and Canada always makes things interesting. _

_**Disclaimer**__-I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians, nor have I directly participated in any Christmas Truces._

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><p><strong>The Sniper In The Pines<strong>

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><p>Jack Frost hated war. He hated the death and the despair, the disease and the starvation. Still Jack had long learned that war seemed to be a needed aspect of humanity and had come to peace with its existence. That was until the current war, the great bloody war that was crawling its way across an entire continent leaving destruction and decaying corpses in its wake.<p>

The sheer scale of this war was larger than anyone had seen before, and it was quickly exhausting all of its participants. There was weariness in General Winter's eyes as the Spirit conjured storm after bone chilling storm, throwing all of his might at both forces in the hope that he could stop a war that was rapidly spiraling out of control. He failed, because every time a country fell another one would take its place on the battlefield. Jack had tried to aid the great General whenever he got a chance, but the fact was, Jack was simply too weak to change the tide of war. That was until something tipped the forces in his favor.

It was Christmas Eve, and all had grown quite on the Western Front. The air was cold and spirits were low and young boys and men dreamt of the warm fires of home. It was in this heart breaking moment when a single German voice rose in an old familiar Christmas hymn. As the first song quieted then a group of British men opened their mouths in yet another carol praising the season. It went on like that long into the night and impromptu concert between the two enemies. Then cautiously a few soldiers began to cross the No Man's Land to meet the men they had been trying to kill just a few short hours previously. By the next day Jack was even able to cox of few men to start a playful snowball fight in the middle of a war zone.

Then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a soldier perched in a tree hanging back from the party that had developed in the No Man's Land below. Just looking at the man's tired eyes it was clear he needed a little bit of Christmas magic, so Jack collected a big handful of the cleanest snow he could find and flung the snowball upward. The sniper in the tree ducked.

"Would you mind not throwing snowballs at me, I am not in the mood to play." His voice was quiet and slightly annoyed.

"You can see me?" Jack asked amused.

"Of course I can." The man in the tree shrugged. "Believe me half the time people think I am invisible, but I am not. People are just very good at not seeing what they think is impossible."

"I can understand that, but why are you not joining in with the festivities?"

"Because it is hard enough to kill a stranger." The sniper admitted quietly. "You can pretend that a stranger is simply a target to practice on. It is nearly impossible to pretend to ignore the face of someone that you actually know."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Jack pressed. "Maybe this type of truce can help stop the war."

The sniper simply stared at the spirit with sad eyes, after a long moment he spoke. "You do realize that what happens on this battle front is only a small of the greater war. In the end what the soldiers choose to do rarely have an impact on the overall outcomes. We are simply pawns, drafted from our homes and taught to kill, and dropped halfway across the world in order to die in a conflict that most of us don't fully understand."

Jack didn't know how to respond to the little speech, but he couldn't leave his young man alone. Not when he was clearly hurting so badly. "Do you mind if I at least sit with you for a while?"

"I don't." The sniper shrugged. "Company might actually be nice for a little while. The name's Mathew by the way. Lt. Mathew Williams, officer in the Queen's Own Rifles of Canada."

"Jack Frost." The Winter Spirit took the proffered hand. "Bringer of winter and all that kind of stuff."

To the spirits pleasant surprised when the sniper didn't throw a fit, but simply motioned to a limb on the tree. The two invisible people sat for a day in comfortable science observing the truce below. They watched as men for opposite sides of the war sang carols to each other, play games, and even exchanged small gifts. With each gesture of kindness Jack's heart soared with happiness, but on the neighboring tree limb the holiday cheer seemed to have the opposite effect. At times Jack could almost swear that he could see his quite companion weeping.

It was not until the sun had set and the last of the Christmas festivities ended that Jack understood why Mathew was racked with despair. At the stroke of midnight of Christmas Day the white flags were lowered and everyone prayed for the peace to last. It did for a few long heart beats. Then a single shot rang out from the familiar pine tree and a patch of snow on the other side of the barb wire was snow was stained red. The truce was broken and the peaceful night air shattered by the sound of halfhearted machine gun fire.

By the time Jack could finally drag his eyes away from the battlefield before him, the sniper in the tree was gone. With tears ice tears in his eyes and despair in his heart he realized that Mathew was probably already traveling to another section of the battlefront to reignite this bloody, evil, terrible war. Yet he hated war with a renewed passion, couldn't find it in him to hate Mathew. After all, that lone sniper was just a bound to death as Winter Spirit seemed to be.

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__- I love the story of the Christmas Truce. It is a wonderful example of the goodness of humanity, but too often we forget to talk about what happened before and after that historical truce. As I was writing this piece all I could think was poor Canada, he knows that in order for the war to finally end he was going to have to destroy this little moment of peace._

_**Next Chapter**_-The Soldier Who Had Not Lost Hope- _Fast Forward to WWII and yet another cold battle front. In the Italian Alps, Jack Frost sits a spell with a freezing soldier who dreams of a belly full with pasta and prays for a best friend's safety. _


	6. The Soldier Who Had Not Lost Hope

_**Author's Note**__-Hey everyone. I hope that life is treating you well, and you haven't had to dig yourselves out of the snow too much. Also I am sorry to say that today isn't a particularly happy post. It involves a whole lot of death in fact. I promise when we finally get through the Cold War we things will get a whole lot happier. Unfortunately Jack Frost and battlefield heavily historically linked._

_**Disclaimer-**__ I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians, nor have I ever been to the Italian Alps._

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><p><strong>The Soldier Who Had Not Lost Hope<strong>

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><p>Only a few decades ago Jack Frost had learned that when humans decided to fight there was nothing that they could do to stop them. Winter spirits could throw the full force of their winter storms against the advancing armies and barely slow them. When they rained down snow and avalanches on the heads of soldiers or frozen them to their final sleep, the world leaders in warm houses far away would simply draft more children and send them to their deaths far from home.<p>

With it clear that the wheels of war would not be halted by, the various Winter Spirits were left to pick sides. General Winter was to be determined to back the Russian Army even when they started to attack their neutral neighbors. The power bringer of winter argued that Russia had long ago made a pack to always come to the aid of the nation and he would do that regardless of whether or not he agreed with the nation's policies. Jack fundamentally disagreed with General Winter's policy and quickly sided with the Finns.

The battle between the Russian Bear and the swift footed Finnish forces became a battle between General Winter and Jack Frost. The two Winter Spirits howled across the bombed out country side, General Winter using brute force to try to freeze Jack Frost in his steps, while Jack used cunning and camouflage to ambush the elder spirit. Both spirits caused havoc, but neither could managed beat the other.

Then summer had come, leaving the Winter War had ended in stalemate and the Winter Spirits fleeing in front of the coming spring. General Winter was now a half a world away in a place called Alaska to fight in the islands where summer never came. Jack Frost decided to journey to another place where spring struggled to gain a foothold in the highest mountains of Europe. On the maps this area of the battle front was simply known as the Italian Alps, but on the ground the soldiers stationed in the trenches near the sky of the world it was called the White War.

While the rain machine gun fire and the thunder of exploding shells were terror of most of Europe's battle fronts, Mother Nature a soldier's biggest enemy in the White War. Here you were twice as likely to be frozen by a freak snow fall or suffocated by an avalanche to die from combat wounds. The fact that winter weather was causing two-thirds of young men's deaths in the area didn't sit well with Jack. He stewed with guilt, but there was nothing that he could do to ease the suffering armies. The Winter Spirit was trying to make peace with some of that guilt when he stumbled across a small shelter scrapped out of the rocks at the top of the cliff.

"Who goes there?" A ragged looking boy asked through lips turning blue with hypoxia and face chapped white with wind from inside the shelter of his meager fox hole.

"A friend." Jack replied, keeping his voice kind and open. He had learned long ago that when a soldier saw him on the battlefield it usually meant that they had little time left in this world. But do you tell that to a farm boy who little more than a child that they are about to die?

"You are not a soldier are you?" They soldiers eyes narrowed, but with confusion instead of suspicion. "Ghost?"

"In a way I guess." Jack shrugged and settled himself down on the rocky ledge that bordered fox hole.

"Well hello Mr. Ghost." Even though soldier was clearly dying of the cold he still smiled brightly at Jack. "My name is Lt. Feliciano Vargas, though most people just call me Feliciano. I am just such a terrible soldier that people just can't bear to add my rank to my name," the boy chuckled, "honestly if I wasn't so good at drawing maps, I think they would have tried to find a way to kicked me out of the army long ago. But I have talked too much, what is your name."

"The name is Jack Frost but you can call me Jack."

"Jack, that is a very nice name. Have you visited Italy often?" The soldier asked and when Jack shook his head no Feliciano made a tisking noise. "That will not do, Italy is the most wonderful country on earth."

Feliciano then opened his mouth and Jack spent a pleasant afternoon sitting on a craggy rock listening to soldier chatter away like a small bird. The small Italian talked about the great artist that Italy had produced and the museum which housed their master pieces. He spoke that his home, which stood on a hill and overlooked a brook that wound its way through hundreds of year old olive orchards. Then he practically talked to little more than a harsh whisper describing all of his favorite foods, how they were prepared, and when they were served.

"You know Jack, as much as I wish that I could at home with a huge bowl of pasta. There is something I want even more." Feliciano said thick tongue and hoarse voice struggling to form the words.

"What?" Jack asked.

"I wish Ludwig was here." "He is my very best friend in the whole world."

"He sounds nice. I hope that someday I will have a chance to meet him."

"The last thing I heard about him his brother sent me a letter telling me that Ludwig had hit by a mortar round somewhere in Poland." The statement hung in the air and then Feliciano looked up at the sky his eye's unfocused, unseeing. "The storm must be breaking. I haven't felt this warm in a very long time…It makes me very sleepy…"

"Why don't you get some sleep, then?"

"But the border?" The soldier's shivering had stopped. "I have been ordered to keep watch…it isn't safe…"

"Sleep, I will watch the border you rest."

With Jack's promise Feliciano's eyes fluttered closed, rasping breaths evened to nothing and snow fell across unruly hair painting it white. Still Jack stayed. Only after the North Wind shepherded the unruly snowflakes into carrion around the fallen soldiers was Jack Frost satisfied with his handiwork. With a quiet prayer the Winter Spirit left on a gust of wind. There were many other lonely boys who were going to die to night on this mountain, and while it was beyond Jack Frost's power to save their lives he could at least ease their passing.

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><p>It took three decades before Jack could bear to return to the slopes of the Alps. The winter encased mountains welcomed him with kind whispers and playful winds. The Winter Spirit enjoyed an afternoon play across the slopes, tripping up skiers and starting snowball fights in the small mountain town. Jack was about to try to go skating on the large glacial lake when a familiar voice on the wind stopped him in his tracks.<p>

"Ve, Ludwig. Why can't we go down the hill one last time?" Said the double of one of the many soldiers whose deaths Jack had witnessed on this mountain during WWII.

"Because it is already late." A gruff looking blond with a strong German accent tried to explain to a very energetic Italian.

"We are having pasta right."

"No." Was the simple reply.

"But Ludwig!" The Italian remarked with a pout. "How in the world could it possibly be dinner if we don't have pasta? Dinner without pasta is practically a sin."

"We are still not having pasta for dinner. We have had pasta for dinner for the last six evenings; tonight we are having a proper German dinner."

"But all you eat is sausages…"

From a willowy spruce tree Jack watched the two young men argue about pointless things and laughing at their own jokes, and he wept. He wept for the smiling soldier barely out of childhood who fought and died on the mountain peaks not far from here. He cried for lost generations who had lost their innocence on the battlefield. And as tears streamed down the Winter Spirit's face, Jack prayed that that the youths below him would never have to experience the blood shed that their ancestors were forced to spill.

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><p><em><strong>End Note-<strong>__ So another said story, but I promise I didn't knock off Northern Italy permanently. He is simply getting a long nap in while he waits for Germany to rescue him. For your own information recovery of war dead from both World Wars continues to this day. This is primarily due to the fact that many of the local battle fields from these wars were fought on glaciers which entombed the unlucky souls. In recent years warming temperatures at high altitude has caused the mountains to give up the dead that they had sheltered all of these decades. _

_**Next Chapter**_-The Woman Who Knit By The Window-_The rise of communism had mixed effects its citizens. Some discovered new horizons. Some, like the woman that Jack watched just outside of Kiev, had their worlds drastically shrink._


	7. The Woman Who Knit By The Window

_**Author's Note**__- Happy New Year to all. To all of you who are celebrating the Orthodox Christmas next week here is story especially for you with my own approach to an old Ukrainian folktale. _

_**Disclaimer- **__I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians, but I am currently working on the exact same lace pattern as Ukraine in this chapter._

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><p><strong>The Woman Who Knit By the Window<strong>

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><p>The way that Christmas was celebrated across the world was changing. In North America the end of WWII had created a baby boom and the sounds of children's laughter rang through many of the nation's homes. After experiencing so much blood and death the former soldiers wanted to do everything in their power to protect their children from the misery they had experienced. In much of Europe did their best to recreate their ancient traditions among the rubble of their once great cities. But as most of the Northern Hemisphere celebrated, there was no Christmas in the Soviet Union.<p>

At least there was not sanctioned Christmas in the Soviet Union, but across the darkened communities of the satellite states the spirit of celebration could not be completely extinguished. In the dark January night, Jack spotted lights shining through the trees on the outskirts of a little village in the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. When the Winter Spirit crept closer he realized that the light was coming from the candles burning inside a little church.

As Jack watched the Christmas Eve service ended and the heavy wooden doors swung open. Quite, simple people exited the building some as couples, others as families. Out of these country folk the very last person was unique. She was a woman in her late teens, possibly early twenties. A worn dress draped her well-endowed body and scarf was draped over her straw colored hair. She was pretty, but her looks was not what attracted Jacks attention. It was her bone weariness. It seemed like she was carrying the weight of a whole country on her shoulders.

"Iryna, do not let your heart be troubled. Tonight is a night of miracles." The weather worn priest said placing a quite hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Open you heart and let the peace of our savoir fill it."

"Thank you Father." The young woman said before she left into the night. "I shall do my best."

Jack followed Iryna through the forest to a tiny one room hut. One whose only decorations for the holiday was a small, roughly carved nativity on the mantle and the silhouette of a stately fir that they young woman had scrawled across the frost on the home's only window pane. After entering Iryna added a small log to a little wood stove and sat down in her only chair to knit. Fingers danced across the delicate lace she was making with practiced grace, which was a good thing because Jack doubted that she could see the pattern she was making through her weeping.

She fell asleep by the window. Yarn in her hands and tears drying on her cheeks. Watching her fitful dreams through the window Jack Frost took pity on the young, lonely woman and decided to do something special. He calmed the North wind and stared the delicate work of weaving ice.

When the first rays of the sun hit the ice latten spruce tree began to sparkle brightly. When you looked closely at the tree you could see patterns woven into the ice. There were prancing reindeer and dancing ballerinas, marching soldiers and tiny spiders weaving strands of tinsel.

Not after dawn Iryna woke and began the tedious chores of caring for the household. She put on her old leather boots to go fetch wood for the fire when she saw the gloriously decorated Christmas tree and her eyes filled with tears. But this time the woman's eyes were filled with tears of amazement instead of tears of despair. With a bounce in her step, she ran towards the other cottages, banging on doors as she went and calling for all of her neighbors to experience the miracle that had just occurred at her home.

Watching the joy the little village experienced viewing Jack's ice sculptures, the Winter Spirit gained a new perspective While family and seasonal foods were treasures at this time of year, a person could find happiness without them. The winter holidays didn't need expensive gifts or fancy parties. The only thing required to celebrate the holidays a person with hope in their heart and the desire to share that hope with others.

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><p><em><strong>End Note- <strong>__Ukrainian Christmas spiders, yes they are a really thing. Go and look them up._

_**Next Chapter-**_ The Brother Who Called Over The Wall-_It was a city, people, a culture, cut in half with an artificial boundary. One side was communist community which whose poverty was stark when a major metropolis whose bright lights and warm homes just across the wall. But it wasn't the grey monotonic which made the Berlin wall on of Jack's least favorite places. It was the fact it bisected families and every once in a while he could hear members of these broken families calling over the wall in the hope for the chance to hear a love ones voice._


	8. The Brothers Who Called Over The Wall

_**Author's Note-**__ Hello all, this one is not a particularly holiday story but it is a winter story that involves two of my favorite Hetalia characters to write for. I hope you will enjoy it, but before we get to the story a quick that you to Sora Moto for their wonderful review. I am glad they enjoyed the effort that I put into the little historical details._

_**Disclaimer**__-I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians, but I have touched a piece of concrete that was once part of the Berlin Wall._

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><p><strong>The Brother Who Called Over The Wall<strong>

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><p>Jack Frost could never understand why humans felt the need to build so many walls to keep people away from each other. Since the Winter Spirit's creation he never been bound to artificial concepts of country or citizenship, instead he had been as free as the winds to travel where the elements would allow. His great amount of autonomy was probably the reason why could never understand the city of Berlin.<p>

Western Berlin was a beautiful place to visit during the long winter nights. It was a bright and cheerful city, full of light and music. Jack enjoyed visiting the markets, occasionally sneaking a pastry or two from a passing cart or starting a snowball fight in the town square. East Berlin was a completely different city filled with gray tombstone like buildings, and hungry children. Then there was the Wall between them. A towering hulk of concrete and barbwire with a barren strip of land down the middle. A Wall, which Jack knew separated countless families by the voices he heard calling on either side of it. Normally Jack tried to ignore the sound, but tonight for some reason he couldn't.

"Bruder, can you hear me?" The broken looking man called to the cold night air. "Are you still coming to the wall every night in the hope that we might be able to talk?"

The pain and loneliness in the East German's voice hit a cord in Jack's frozen heart. He felt pity for the man. It was clear that Jack Frost could not solve this problem, but he was at least capable of calling the wind to aid him. With a flick of his wrist the Winter Spirit begged the North Wind to carry the man's message over the wall to the weighting ears on the other side.

"Bruder." The albino called halfheartedly, one last time before hanging his head in despair and walking away.

"Gilbert!" Came a voice from over the wall, and immediately the man stopped in his tracks.

"I can hear you little bruder." The man with the white hair replied, tears streaming down his cheeks. "It is wonderful to hear your voice. It has been far too long."

"Are you okay? Are you safe?"

"I am doing alright." Gilbert breathed. From the thread bear clothing hanging off his bony frame and the bruises littering the elder brother's body Jack could tell that the words were a lie, but it appeared to be a lie that both siblings needed to hear. "How about you? Are the American's treating you well?"

"Well enough. But I wish I had my older brother here to keep an eye on me."

"You have out grown my help, my little dragon slayer." Gilbert chuckled.

"Just because I don't need you to tuck me in at night don't mean that I can't miss you. I have been worried sick about you ever since the Russians invaded."

The military patrol guarding the East side of the wall were coming and there was nothing that Jack could do delay them. Gilbert was going to have to leave quickly to avoid a dangerous confrontation, but it was clear that he wasn't going to without a few last words to his brother.

"You shouldn't have worried. You know that I can take care of myself." Gilibert began to speak faster as the armed men grew closer. "Anyway, things are getting kind of hectic over here so I am going to have to leave, but before I do, Ludwig, there is something that I really need to tell you. I am so proud of you. You have made me the proudest older bruder on the entire planet and if we ever get the chance to see each other again I want you to know just how much I love you."

"I love you, too." The younger brother whispered just loud enough for Gilbert to hear him. The albino smiled and Jack took that moment cut off the channel of wind that had allowed the two brothers to communicate in the wall. Just in time to prevent the younger of the two from hearing the hail of gun shots that followed.

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__- Cold War East and West Germany, it gets me every time. Man it is a really good thing that countries are basically immortal because I have been trying to knock them off the last few chapters._

**Next Chapter-**The Toddler In The Storm-_Without realizing it Jack witnesses the birth of the personification for a brand new territory. _


	9. The Toddler In The Storm

_**Author's Note-**__Hey everyone. If you have read any of my other Hetalia works I am sure you have stumbled upon some of my OC's. The vast majority of these OC's are States and Territories, of which the Arctic ones have long been my favorite ones to write for. In today's post I will introduce you to two of these characters, baby Nunavut and the Northwest Territories. I hope that you will enjoy this story, if OCs are not your think, that is okay. Japan will be staring in the next post. Also a huge thanks to Coffeetailor for the review. Feedback is always really helpful._

_**Disclaimer**__-I do not own Hetalia, Rise or the Guardians, or any remote islands located in the High Arctic._

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><p><strong>The Toddler In The Storm<strong>

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><p>There was something really odd going on with the Aurora Borealis and it was kind of freaking Jack out. Instead of being the normal ribbons of light that danced in a constant circle around the pole, they were vivid flames refusing to listen to North's commands. They were also singing, a deep almost electronic crackle that most of the world didn't appear to hear.<p>

Being the curious, fairly reckless Winter Spirit that he was, Jack quickly determined that he needed to track down what had caused the Northern Lights to become so unresponsive so he chased the crackling to its source. He followed the sound to the Island of Meighen in the high Artic, to a place where the aurora nearly seemed to touch the rocks despite the winters gale that was threatening consume the island. Jack poked around for a few moments, but saw nothing that should be causing the Northern Lights strange behavior.

Then he heard the child's cry. Jack stopped in his tracks and peaked under the rocks. An almond faced toddler with dark hair and a white nightgown looking outfit looked back out at him. There was another yelp and Jack noticed the family of fluffy Artic foxes who had wrapped themselves around the toddler keeping the little one warm. Jack suspected that was the only reason the child had survived as long as he did.

"Hey little guy?" Jack said making a funny face and causing the child to laugh. "What are you doing here?" The Winter Spirit moved to pick up the child.

"Don't touch him?" The mysterious girl shouted as she ran passed him, scooped the giggling child in her arms and places herself between the toddler and the Winter Spirit. The sudden attention that she gave the toddler after apparently abandoning him made Jack sick.

"How could you do that to such a young child?" Jack asked venom in his voice.

"You misunderstand me." The woman's dark eyes flashed protectively. "I did not choose to place this toddler in the storm; this was the place that he was born."

"That is ridiculous, how could a child be born on an uninhabited island?"

"The people of the land do not choose where or when we are born. Nor is the process that leads to our birth really known." She spoke as though these words should end the argument once and for all.

"If you are not responsible for this boy, why are you here?" Jack spat back.

"The same reason you are." She replied simply, but continued when she saw the confusion painted across Jack face. "The Arsaniit called me here."

"Arsaniit?" Jack asked completely confused.

"The torches of our ancestors." She gazed up the cloud cover sky. "Many who are not from our lands call them the Northern Lights or the Aurora Borealis. The Song of the Arsaniitt summoned me to this place, and for some reason they called you here as well."

"Why?"

"I do not know, perhaps you are meant to be a guardian for this child." The woman spoke as she stroked the air of the child clinging to her chest. "It has happened a few times in the past, the ancestors have called on General Winter to protect the young of our kind. Perhaps the ancestors had decided that you would be a better chose for this particular child."

"But I am a Winter Spirit, a pretty weak one at that." Jack admitted.

"I do not think you are weak." She a finger under his chin and forced him to look into her eyes. At first he tried to look away, but then it was almost like he sunk into their warm brown depths. In those eyes he saw a creature far old them himself, one that was dangerous but also made him feel very safe. When she spoke again, the Winter Spirit was finally ready to really listen. "Jack Frost, shepherd of winter, you are stronger then you know. One day the world will need that strength. Until then do not lose faith in yourself."

"I will try…"

"That is all anyone can ask." She smiled and a part of the winter spirits heart melted. "I have a feeling we will meet again."

Then, before Jack could say another word, she walking out into the driving snow without a second glance the small toddler tucked against her breasts. Jack Frost tried to chase after her for a short while, but it soon became apparent that not even the North Wind could find her in such a gale. He returned to the shelter in the rocks and watched the snow fall until Mother Nature's violence was spent.

It wasn't until the storm had past that Jack Frost realized that he had no clue how the willowy woman in the parka had managed to arrive to a remote island in the high artic in the middle of an arctic hurricane in order to rescue a child in the middle of nowhere. After scoring the surrounding area for a week and a half he discovered the closest human beings lived were the 30 people living in a speck of a town over 200 miles away.

Throughout the years, Jack found himself searching for the woman with the chocolate eyes. Not every day, but whenever he found himself particularly lonely. He never found her. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if the whole event had been a dream. But, whenever Jack Frost found himself doubting that night when he meant the young child and the strange woman in the middle of the Arctic Ocean actually existed, he would find himself returning to Meighen Island. There he would listen to the song passed through generation after generation of delicate artic foxes, a song which spoke of the worst storm ever to hit their home island and the Child of the Land who sheltered with them in their rocky dens.

The Winter Spirit would sit on the rocks above the little creatures and listen as they taught their children about how one of the Great Winter Spirits had come to their home and the North Wind howled at the threshold of the den until the Mother of the Land had come to fetch the Child of the Land. Their yips and yaps told the young that the Mother of the Land had brought the Child to a place farther south where the where winter's night was not as long, but sometime in the future when the Child of the Land would return to their island. Until that day the foxes would wait.

Somewhere along the line Jack Frost decided that he was going to wait as well. After all, he wanted to know what type of person the toddler he had found in the storm so many years ago had grown up to be. But most of all, he wanted to look into the chocolate eyes and have that beautiful woman tell him that his life was worthwhile.

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__-Jack has a crush…Anyway, I love little Nunavut. If you would like to read more about him I would suggest pulling up the story collection 'Boy With The Ice Eyes and other Circumpolar Tales' or 'Five Planes' as he makes appearances in both. Also for you own information you actually can hear the aurora on occasion. It is pretty rare, but very real._

_**Next Chapter**__-The One Sent To Fetch The Chicken Dinner- Over time, the traditions surrounding holidays change. On the island of Japan, Jack and Yuki-onna enjoy celebrating a newly minted tradition._


	10. The One Sent To Fetch The Chicken Dinner

_**Author's Note**__-Hey everyone, when I went on exchange with Japan I was surprised by some of the entertaining Americisms that managed to make their way across the Pacific Ocean. I hope that you will also be entertained. _

_**Disclaimer-**__ I do not own Hetalia, Rise of the Guardians, or KFC's special spice blend. I do make mean oven fried chicken though._

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><p><strong>The One Sent To Fetch The Chicken Dinner<strong>

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><p>Jack Frost was fascinated by different countries created their winter holiday traditions. From the accidental creation of the Santa Tracker program in the United States to the yearly attempts to burn the Gävle Goat in Sweden the way people celebrated the midwinter holidays always made Jack smile. But some of the festivities just made the Winter Spirit scratch his head.<p>

From what he could tell the Japanese obsession with eating fast food for Christmas was completely a marketing fabrication. It started back in 1974 when KFC did there "Kurisumasu ni wa kentakki" (Kentucky for Christmas) TV campaign. Back then they charged about $10 for a bucket of fried bird and bottle of wine. Now that tradition had ballooned into a $40 dollar takeout meal served with cake and champagne, that people were willing to stand in line for as long as two hours to get. This, of course, meant that Jack needed visit Japan in order to throw some chaos into the process.

This particular year Jack had parked himself on top of a particular impressive building in down town Tokyo. Below him the line of people were patiently waiting, leaving the him with the internal debate of whether it would be better dump snow or cold water on the people below. He was about to choose the freezing water when he noticed a familiar women perched in a grand old cherry tree in the neighboring park. Curious, Jack decided to investigate.

"Yuki-onna?"

The Snow Demon jerked away from the Winter Spirit nearly smacking him in the process. The moment that she realized what she had done Yuki-onna blushed blue. "I am so sorry Jack I didn't see you there."

"That is alright, I should have startled you." Jack tried to comfort the obviously distort woman. "Is there something wrong?"

"I guess I was kind of lost in memory." She admitted shyly.

"From the way you look it wasn't a particularly happy one."

"It was about him." The demon looked at the grown man before her wistfully, aching longing in her voice "When Kiku was young he was one of my favorite playmates. Now I am only a story book character. A figment of his imagination."

Jack looked as his fellow Winter Keeper concerned, until he figured out a solution to the problem. Gathering a large handful of slush snow he waited until the young Japanese man walked under a heavily ladenned tree.

"Jack what did you do?"

"Any man who makes a woman as beautiful as you cry deserves to be pranked without mercy." The Winter Spirit replied with a rakish smile. "Now you if you don't mind, I am going to see if we can salvage any of that chicken, because it smells wonderful."

The bottle of champagne was a complete loss and the cake was a crushed mess, but the rest of the meal was in surprisingly good shape. Tucking the crumpled bucket under his arm, Jack put his hand out for Yuki-onna to take. Hand clasped firmly in his, he bid the north wind to carry them to a particularly beautiful spot. The two had there picnic supper watching the city lights twinkle to life from their view point perched high on the Tokyo Tower. Licking spiced grease from their fingers and eating the last crumbs of the crushed cake, neither Winter Spirit could resist a contented sigh.

"So, should we snitch a few more drumsticks from another bucket?" Yuki-onna asked a mischievous glint in her eyes. Jack met her gaze with a grin of his own.

"Milady, I think that is an excellent idea."

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__- Now I am craving KFC. _

_**Next Chapter**_-The Pilot Who Spoke Yeti-_It was two weeks before Christmas and something was very wrong at North's workshop. The building was dark, and an unknown person was stalking the halls. A person who totally kicks Jack's butt._


	11. The Pilot Who Spoke Yeti

_**Author's Note**__-Good morning everyone. Not much to say today other than a huge thanks to Cira Heartfilia for leaving a great review. On to the story._

_**Disclaimer**__- I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardians nor have I been to the North Pole…yet…_

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><p><strong>The Pilot Who Spoke Yeti<strong>

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><p>Something was not right at the North Pole. There usually bustling home of North's workshop was frighteningly quiet and many of the windows were dark. While this would be worrying under any circumstance with only three days until Christmas Eve the fact that the workshop was silent was deeply unsettling. Then there was the small human aircraft that had been tethered to the top of the ice cliff above complex.<p>

An icy stone building at the pit of Jack stomach he allowed the North Wind to carry him down the great workshop and muffle his footstep as he prowled the halls trying to locate the cause for the unnatural quiet. He hunted, until he caught a glimpse of silver through a doorway.

In a normal situation, Jack would try to figure out what a person was doing before he attacked them head on, but this human had threat written all over her. If she was the person responsible for the quiet engulfing the normally busy workshops then it was Jack's responsibility to rescue his fellow guardian. He raised his staff whispering a spell that should incapacity long enough for Jack to call for help.

The crust of ice that curled around her body should have stopped her dead in her tracks, but with little more of a flex of her lean body the frost cracked and shattered in a rain of crystals. Before Jack had a chance to react she was already in motion. He tried to cast yet another spell, but she turned, dodging it, causing the ice to paint spiral patterns across the wall.

Then she was upon him with the ferocity of an Arctic Hurricane. A fist met his nose, and he felt bone snap. Jack didn't have an opportunity to recover before a knee connected with his stomach and an elbow slammed into the side into his temple. The last thing that Jack thought has his vision faded to black was 'Man, she hits like an avalanche.'

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><p>The first that Jack sensed as he slowly awakened was the howling of a great winter storm. The north wind was pounding itself against the buildings of North's workshop with such force that the winter spirit could actually feel the wooden floor boards creaking under the strain. Ever since Jack had become a Guardian his ability to control the winds fickle moods had increased, but even with his growing strength he could never whip them into such a frenzy. Listening to the storm scream, he prayed that one of the more powerful winter spirits were currently in control because if they were not, Jack did not know if he would be able to quiet the winds by himself.<p>

The winter sprite had been so focused on listening to the blizzard outside, that he barely registered the rest of his surroundings. His subconscious mind recognized the familiar scent of the strong tea that North brewed whenever he wanted to think.

"North…" The winter spirit muttered through bruised and swollen lips.

"Jack." The Cossack gave a deep belly laugh. "It is good of you to join us."

"North there was an intruder in your…" The winter spirit started but stopped the moment that he saw the woman he had just battled sitting in a chair near the book case. There were coils of darkening frostbite were scrolled across her skin, but other than that she looked fine. Something was very wrong with this picture. "What is she doing here?"

"She," the women smirked, "is at the North Pole on an official visit. I needed to collect North's Christmas Eve flight plan to insure that there are no inflight incidents." The woman then switch from English to unaccented Yeti. "By the way Phil, this tea is lovely. Where on earth did you find it?"

Phil appeared to blush slightly at the strangers comment before launching into description about the hidden village in the Himalayas that it was sourced from. Occasionally the woman would interrupt the Yeti's' story with the same flawless pronunciation. By the end of the exchange Jack couldn't help but look at the woman as though she had grown a second head, and that caused North to chuckle.

"Lad it looks like you have some questions."

"Who is she?" Jack blurted as he tried to sit up but was prevented by North's heavy hand on his shoulder.

"That might take a bit of explaining…" North began but the young women put down her tea cup he paused.

"I am Alaska the child born of fire, ice, and the sea."

"That isn't possible…" Jack said shaking his head.

"Says the winter sprite." She smirked back.

"But Alaska is a place and…" Jack muttered. "Does that mean that there are more of you?"

"Last time I checked there was approximately four hundred of our kind, each the personification of a distinctive place or culture."

"Have I ever meant…"

"Have you ever meant one of our kind before? Yes, I suspect that it has happened many times in the past. In fact, we have meant in the past when I was a young child shortly after the destruction of Arkhangelsk."

"But that was over two hundred years ago?" Jack blurted. "That's impossible…"

"I repeat, says the three hundred and something year old winter spirit."

"What are you?"

"I am part of both the land and its people. As long as my people remain I am practically immortal."

"And practically invincible." North comment was filled with far too much mirth for Jack's preference.

"If you are so immortal how could I possible leave a mark?" Jack countered.

"These?" Samantha said with a shrug as she took a delicate sip of tea. "It will probably only take a few months for these to fully fade." At Jack's panicked posture her own expression softened. "The tundra heals very slowly. Though my body may appear to be human, I am in fact a very different creature. As such you should not be surprised that I respond to injuries in a manor different than your average human would."

When Jack still looked confused North took pity on him. "That is her way to tell you not to worry about it."

"Didn't I say that?" She cocked her head, in such an innocent way that Jack couldn't help but relax in her presence.

"Sort of." North said giving a loving pat on the top of her head. The two spirits and the nation slipped into a short moment of companionate silence. Then, the state got a nearly predatory grin on her face.

"Now Jack. I have been told that you have an exceptional skill. How would you feel about snowing a few people in for the holidays?"

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><p><em><strong>End Note<strong>__- And thus the East Coast gets pounded by the polar vortex, lol. _

_**Next Chapter-**_The Keepers of the Sleigh-_ Nick had to learn how to build the sleigh from someone and sometimes even magical reindeer need a vet visit. With Christmas quickly approaching Jack is dragged into tracking a pair of Nordic Nations and bringing them to the North Pole to help save Christmas._


	12. The Keepers of the Sleigh

**Author's Note-** _Hey everyone, today I post the very last chapter of the Another Type of Guardian…only a month and a half late…oh well, life happens. A quick thank you to Russia says hello for leaving a review and lets got on to the story._

_**Disclaimer**__- I do not own Hetalia or Rise of the Guardian, only a handsome set of reindeer sleigh bells._

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><p><strong>The Keepers of the Sleigh<strong>

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><p>The snow was falling in wet, clumpy flakes. They type that clung to everything and caused heart attacks among people who ignored their physical fitness the rest of the year. Even though this type of snow occasionally killed people, it was usually Jack Frost's favorite type of weather. Not today. This particular evening Jack was finding the thick snow fall down right annoying.<p>

Jack scrapped the snow off of the soggy map that North had given him and tried, once again, to figure out where he was going. This action only managed to smear the ink further, but Jack wasn't quite ready to admit that he was complete and utterly lost. Luckily the reindeer that North had sent him with seemed to know where she was going.

The reindeer, which had a ridiculous Russian name that Jack had given up trying to pronounce hours ago, rested her chin on his shoulder and huffed.

"Alright, alright I am moving." He tucked the map into his belt. "I just can't figure out why North sent me with you. I know he can't use snow globes to get to this place and that he is really busy trying to repair the sleigh right now, but you seem pretty comfortable coming here on your own. You could have picked up the supplies on your own."

The reindeer tossed her head in what Jack suspected was a reindeer chuckle. Then she wacked him gentle upside the head with her antlers.

"Ouch." Jack winced more out of habit then pain. "That was un called for."

More reindeer chuckling in reply, and the graceful animal galloped forward leaving Jake to run to catch up. Then, she froze as quickly as she had start. The only part of the deer that moved was her ears and those barely quivered as she paid attention to sounds that Jack couldn't hear.

"What do you hear?" Jack asked his voice barely a whisper, his hand resting on the deer's taunt shoulder trying to calm her down.

The reindeer made a low grumbling noise and looked intently head of them. Jack turned his attention to the spot the deer was looking. At first he couldn't sense anything amiss in this quiet forest, and then he heard the crunching of snow underfoot. Someone was heading there way and even though Jack Frost was not only mortal, but also invisible to almost everyone he still felt the need to run and hide.

When the source of the footsteps came through broke through the trees, Jack's instinct to bolt intensified. The man was massive. He towered over both Jack and the reindeer. His was clearly muscled under his heavy cloak and he glowered down at reindeer and winter spirit alike. The man shifted his weight and Jack realized that he had a large axe slung over his shoulder. Jack was preparing to fight, when the reindeer did something that surprises him. She approached the stranger, leaning into him as though she was begging to be scratched. The tall man stripped the gloves from his hands and scratched the reindeer along its jaw bones. As he did, he spoke words made no sense to Jack's ears. The Winter Spirit was still nervous but with as the reindeer calmed was Jack had to assume the spectacled giant wasn't evil.

The strange man motioned for Jack to follow, and the winter spirit followed. But even at a jog, Jack struggled to keep up with the stranger's long strides. Eventually all he could do was follow footprints in the snow through the worsening storm. The forest closed in around the Winter Spirit and he quickened his pace worried that he would get lost. The track in the snow had nearly faded to nothing when he burst through a thicket wall and into a picturesque meadow. Grand old pines guarded the perimeter, billowy drifts of unbroken snow covered the meadow floor, and in the middle a cottage stood windows bright and smoke winding upward from the chimney.

"Hello Jack, I was wondering when you were going to visit." The voice startled Jack into realizing that he wasn't alone. There was a slight, elf like man who was watching him with amusement.

"You knew I was coming?"

"Of course." The small man's violet eyes twinkled. "You are a winter spirit and eventually every winter spirit breaks bread under my roof. Plus Chukchi informed me that you were coming."

"Chu…" Jack tried to pronounce the unfamiliar word, then the meaning clicked. "You can speak to Reindeer?"

"Yes, I can speak to them. How else would I figure out which ones have the desire to learn how to fly?"

Jack stared slack jawed a the stranger and then decided he better change the subject. "Why do I recognize this place? I am sure that I have never been here , but it feels so familiar…"

"You are feeling the wonder of the world, happiness of children, hope for tomorrow, peace of restful nights, but most of all the magic of winter." The slight man said motioning at the world surrounding him. "No one has ever figured out why, but there are a few places where that magic bubbles up and creates a hotspot."

"How have I never been to a place like this before?"

"You have." There was a soft chuckle. "The lake near Burgess, you know the one that never thaws, the where you were born into your current form. That happens to be one of the world's magical hot spots. It might not be as strong as the North's workshop or Bunnymund's warren, but it is magical just the same. Normally magical creatures are naturally drawn to such points, but you have proven to be a bit of an exception."

"Why?"

"Who knows?" He shrugged, with a smile that would melt hearts. "I suspect that it might be due to a bad case of wanderlust, but it could be something completely different. You're still pretty young so time will tell."

"F'ds r'dy." Bespectialed giant hollered from the house interrupting the conversation.

"Thank you Berwald. We will be in to eat in a moment." The small man called back, then looked Jack directly in the eyes. "Come and join us for lunch. Once our tummies are full we can get down to business."

In the comfortable atmosphere of the meadow, Jack found he couldn't refuse the offer. So Winter Spirit entered the homely little house that was felt like perched on the edge of eternity.

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><p><em><strong>End Note-<strong>__ Well, that's a wrap. This was my very first crossover fiction and I hope that you enjoyed it. If you have any comments or suggestions that could make the next one better, please drop me a review or pm. Your feedback is extremely helpful._


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